Page 185 of Tell Me Something True

Only to start trembling again, this time with eagerness.

She couldn’t wait to see what he did to her next.

“It doesn’t matter whether you left anything for me or not,” he said in a dark, silky tone that had her pussy clenching, “because I’m going to take more anyway.”

Chapter 36

Miles had some serious regrets in his life, several of the biggest involving the naked woman at his feet, her chest still heaving from her orgasm, her lips pink and swollen from his cock.

He regretted the things done when they were together years ago. The things he’d said since she’d come back into his life weeks ago.

The one thing he hadn’t done when she’d left him.

The truth he hadn’t said, wouldn’t say, now.

But his biggest regret wasn’t that he’d chocked her with his cock or that he made her work so hard for her release without helping her in the slightest.

It was that whole I’m not going to come in your mouth bit he’d spouted.

There was nothing he wanted more than to fuck her mouth, hard and fast, like he’d done in that closet weeks ago.

Unless it was toss her on the bed and fuck her pussy the same way.

And while he was hard enough, aroused enough, and arrogant enough to believe he had the stamina to perform both those acts to their mutual satisfaction tonight, he’d been waiting too long to slide his dick back into her warm, wet pussy. To feel her tighten around him, taking him deep. Letting him become a part of her.

His need for her was a living, breathing thing. Too big to contain. Too hungry to ever fully satiate. Too powerful to ever control.

He wanted to let it consume him. Wanted that hunger, that power to drive him. To test him and her. To push them as far as their boundaries and fears would let them.

Then he wanted to push them a little more.

Until then, he wouldn’t do anything to take the edge off.

He’d rather ride that razor sharp edge for as long as he could.

Unlike his greedy, horny girl who’d just made herself come so hard, her eyes had rolled back, her body had convulsed like she’d had an electric shock, and her screams had been muffled by his cock.

He’d never seen anything hotter.

But the next time she came, it was going to be because he made her.

Because he let her.

“Stand up,” he told her, and she obeyed so quickly, she lost her balance and toppled to the side, catching herself with a hand pressed to the floor.

Then she looked up at him before straightening to her knees again.

And lifted her hands out to him.

He twitched, as if that current that had gone through her during her orgasm now zapped from her fingertips to his body. He didn’t fight his instincts often, but he did now, ignoring his need to help her.

“You’re smart. You’re strong. And you’re the most resilient person I know. You are more than capable of getting back on your feet all on your own. You don’t need me. You never did,” he continued. “And that about killed me because I so desperately wanted you to. I thought you were broken.” His admission was husky and laced with shame. “And I wanted to be the one to fix you. To put you back together again. I thought if I did, maybe…” He stopped. Blew out a breath and shook his head at his own stupidity. “Maybe it’d fix my broken pieces, too.”

Keeping her hands out, she studied him with a mix of understanding and patience. “You’re right. I am smart and strong. Smart enough to know when to ask for help. Strong enough,” she continued in a tone so pointed, he knew he was about to get poked with it, “to know accepting that help doesn’t make me weak.”

Yep. There it was. A reminder of their earlier conversation.

But before he could defend himself—or make more lame excuses about why he hadn’t sought help for his anxiety attacks or even told his family about them—she continued.

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